To the blond-haired youth shouting that phrase, "God of Car Gods," Ye Xuan didn't respond.
He just paused slightly, then hurriedly quickened his pace and walked back to the Rolls Royce.
What "God of Car Gods," what "invincible," what "pinnacle of racing," are all just ordinary names, mere floating clouds.
What can be preserved are only memories.
What cannot be taken away is the past.
Ye Xuan sat back in the passenger seat of the Rolls Royce.
The events of the past flickered through his mind like a movie, scene by scene filtering through his thoughts.
He had been young once, commanded the street racing scene, hailed as the "invincible God of Car Gods."
But so what?
No matter how great a title, it's just fleeting clouds!
Back then, Ye Xuan was only sixteen or seventeen years old.
Now, Ye Xuan has long grown up, his driving skills have improved, but he no longer has the heart to compete.
